


i'm meaner than my demons, i'm bigger than these bones

by katyfaise



Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (2015)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Light Dom/sub, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smut, very light
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-04
Updated: 2015-09-04
Packaged: 2018-04-18 23:28:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4724249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katyfaise/pseuds/katyfaise
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He likes his women strong.</p>
<p>She will give him the strongest.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i'm meaner than my demons, i'm bigger than these bones

**Author's Note:**

  * For [neckwear](https://archiveofourown.org/users/neckwear/gifts).



> do i do anything besides write these two anymore? the answer is a resounding no... well i cry over them a lot.  
> mistakes are my own  
> title is from halsey's control.

There’s a tension surrounding them. It’s thicker than anything either of them have ever experienced, so thick that it’s threatening to suffocate them both in the lush hotel suite. 

_Has it always been there?_ she questions, her mind blurry and heavy with the weight of blue eyes staring her down. 

They’re nearly pleading. 

Nearly.

“If this is to be a hinderance on our work, then we should solve it now, yes?”

Illya straightens his stance and Gaby sees a smirk on the corner of his lips, just barely, but it’s there for a millisecond. He nods slowly, once, then twice, and Gaby unbuttons the shell over her dress as he takes a tentative step forward. Immediately, she holds up a finger, stopping him in his tracks.

“No,” she says, voice certain. Strong. The way he likes it. “You do as I say.” Her words send a shockwave to his core and he’s pleasantly surprised at her initiative. So he nods again and stands still as a statue, eyes still trained on her.

Gaby drops the shell aside and then takes a step forward to step up onto one of the chairs between them. 

“Take off my boots,” she says, hands moving to rest at her hips. When Illya doesn’t respond, Gaby clears her throat loudly. “You do as I say,” Gaby repeats, and it seems to bring him back around. Illya steps forward and hovers beside her, almost reaching out to steady her but he thinks better of it. Instead, he does as she asks - no, commands - and carefully unzips each boot. Illya pulls the pleather shoe off one by one, his fingers lingering on her leg when he tosses the second one aside. Gaby smiles in return and reaches out to run her own fingers through his carefully combed blond hair. Illya carefully runs his hand higher, slow at first, as if waiting for her permission.

Which in a way, he probably is.

Gaby looks down though, eyes on his hand as he caresses the softness of her inner thigh. She stays calm, aware that her heavy breathing could give her away. But she swallow the breath on her lips and allows Illya to unbuckle the clasps on her garter belt that hold up her stockings. Carefully, he rolls the fabric down each leg, fingers caressing the soft skin as it’s revealed. She’s taken by surprise when he leans forward, pushes the dress aside, and presses his lips to her outer thigh. 

She reacts by pulling his head back by his hair roughly and stares at him with narrowed eyes.

“I didn’t say you could do that.”

Illya’s own eyes narrow to meet hers and he grunts, seemingly understanding her. 

Gaby smiles softly and lets go of his hair. 

“Help me down,” she says next, and Illya holds out his hand to help her step off of the chair. He looks down at her then, eyes watching carefully as Gaby takes a step back from him. With her eyes still on Illya, she reaches behind her back and unzips her dress slowly. She lets it drop to the ground and she steps out of it, kicking it aside. “Take your clothes off.”

The command seems to surprise him, and his face falls. It’s not the sort of thing he is used to hearing, but he accepts it all the same. He clears his throat and does what he is told.

First his jacket. Then his sweater. Illya removes the white undershirt. Next is his belt and shoes. His trousers drop to the floor last. 

Gaby looks down his body and then tilts her head up, a glint of appreciation in her eyes as the two of them stand there in their underwear across from each other. 

“What do you want, Gaby?” Illya asks, meeting her eyes.

She seems to contemplate his question seriously, growing silent for the moment. It’s only a beat before Gaby glances back up and steadies her gaze on his. 

“You.”

Immediately, Illya moves forward and wraps an arm around her waist, lifts her easily and Gaby tangles her legs around him. Her back hits the wall with a heavy thud and he begins to place wet kisses across her neck and collarbone, sensations that make Gaby moan with ease. Gaby threads her fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck, pulling gently to direct his mouth exactly where she wants it. This is something she has longed for, dreamed of, craved in her very being. 

And Gaby always gets what she wants. 

She roughly grabs his chin, breaking his concentration on the rest of her body to lead her lips to his. Gaby kisses him just as rough, teeth brushing over his bottom lip as she pulls away. 

He likes his women strong.

She will give him the strongest.

Her fingers dig in roughly to his neck and Illya’s eyes grow wide, meeting hers as she raised an eyebrow.

“Take me to the bed,” she instructs, and Illya steps back, carrying her away from the wall. Gaby holds onto him tightly, only letting go when he shakes her off to sit her down on the edge of the bed. He kneels down in front of her and lifts a tan, toned leg. His fingers follow the lines of her body until he meets the sides of her panties and pulls them down. Once he has cast them aside, he rests her leg on his shoulder and leans forward, lips moving up her inner thigh. Gaby shivers in response once the heat of his breath touches the tuft of hair between her legs. 

“Am I... allowed?”

Gaby bites her bottom lip and nods before she relaxes back on the bed.

Illya licks his tongue, flat and heavy, against her clit and Gaby’s hips jerk forward in response. He reaches up and spreads a large hand across her abdomen, holding her steady. She breathes heavy, hand finding his as it rests against her skin. Gaby squeezes as he fucks her with his tongue, her free hand grasping and holding at the expensive sheets beneath her. She comes silently, only a gasped breath leaving her lips, and Illya pulls away. He watches her stomach rising and falling as she slowly recovers, watching as if she’s made of light.

And Illya isn’t sure that she isn’t.

She scoots up on the bed and he follows her, hands on either side of her body. Gaby reaches up, holds his chin again, and leads her lips to him. Her taste is muted on his lips and she lets him kiss her until he is satisfied. He follows her hands as she pushes his briefs off and there’s not a moment wasted between them until he’s inside of her. Illya rolls his hips gently at first, kissing away each gasped breath that Gaby releases. Before long, he has reached a rhythm - her legs wrapped around his waist as he presses deep into her over and over again. Gaby runs her nails down his chest, holding her hands tight on his shoulders as her whispers linger in his ears.

Love.

She loves him. And she wants him.

It pushes Illya harder.

He pulls her up into his lap, hands braced around her back as Gaby controls the way gravity pushes her down, presses Illya deeper inside her. There’s a sound on the tip of her tongue and her mouth is open, his name hanging there. When she finally comes it’s the sound of his name she calls, so sweet from her lips, that pushes him to orgasm as well. 

Gaby falls against Illya, reveling in the feeling of skin against skin. 

He holds her close, bites her earlobe gently enough to get a laugh out of her and the sound relaxes every muscle in his body.

She is the strongest. 

She is _his_ strongest.

 


End file.
